


here in a world where there's safety in falsehood

by i_wantarevalation



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Cheating, F/M, How?? Jack Loves Hockey, Infidelity, Jack's Overdose, Jewish Jack Zimmermann, M/M, More tags/characters to be added later, Teen Pregnancy, Underage drug and alcohol use, abuse of prescription medication, bare: a pop opera au, bitty and jack are very much in love but jack has Issues, catholic guilt and religious trauma :), hockey bros actually being hockey bros, it's kind of mostly sad but also hilarious?, its not pretty here folks, offscreen underage sex, theyre all in catholic school!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 15:29:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17266742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_wantarevalation/pseuds/i_wantarevalation
Summary: Eric and Jack are so in love. However, they can't be publicly out, because they attend St. Cecilia's catholic boarding school. With the best hockey team on the east coast and dealing with mental illness, religious oppression, and more than your typical high school drama, the two struggle to finish senior year and move on to the "rest" of their life... Whatever that "rest" holds.Warnings: typical canon alcohol and drug use, including Jack's overdose; teen pregnancy and infidelity. more specific, spoiler-y warnings in chapter notes.





	here in a world where there's safety in falsehood

**Author's Note:**

> This came about when I realized that the beloved, cheerful webcomic Check, Please! actually has the same story and characters as the heartbreaking musical Bare: a Pop Opera. If you're familiar with Bare, which I don't think you need to be to get this fic, the characters pretty exactly line up: Jack = Jason, Peter = Bitty, Parse = Matt (and Ivy), Camilla = Ivy, and Shitty = Lucas. I made the rest fit as needed and I'm kind of super excited! If you aren't familiar with Bare, go listen to it on spotify or apple music or watch it on youtube, and while you're there please imagine Shitty singing "Wonderland." Also, warning: a main character dies in Bare, but there won't be any major character death in this fic, because I can't bring myself to write that.
> 
> This is my first published fic and I'm really excited about it! Please be kind. I take all kudos and comments with love - if you have a valid, constructive critique you're also welcome to leave that. I'll be updating as I write - no schedule as of now.
> 
> Thank you to ley for allowing me to send her the first draft of this and offering encouragement!!!

Eric had his eyes on Jack the whole mass. He barely heard the familiar words anymore (“Holy Mary, mother of god, blessed art thou -”) as the priest droned on and on. Today’s sermon covered Leviticus and the familiar “love the sinner hate the sin” bullshit, and while Eric was intimately familiar with the crap spewed by the Catholic Church, his - boyfriend? friend? fuckbuddy-with-feelings? - wasn’t.

“Thanks be to god.” The hour-long morning service ended after what felt like an eternity and the congregation stood to go to class. The students at St. Cecilia’s Catholic Boarding School were mostly nonreligious, or at least non-fanatic, which was more important. Almost all of them were some combination of white, straight, and upper middle class. Most of them had parents who were concerned about their eternal soul but not enough to pay attention to their children during the school year. And then there was Jack.

Eric was in love with Jack Zimmermann. He realized that was maybe dumb, to be seventeen and say “I’m in love.” But he was sure about this. Since he was five he’d been hearing how he was air-quotes “different” and capital-S “Strange.” His parents had gotten a divorce when he was ten - the same year his Moomaw had given him a new rolling pin and a recipe book for his birthday, he’d discovered Beyoncé, and he’d won his first junior figure skating title. And he could see the same thing in Jack - he saw it in a few other boys too, but Jack was the nicest, and the tallest, and the best on skates, and -

While many kids at St. Cecilia’s had been attending since grade school, Jack Zimmermann had only started there last year. And, as only Eric knew, he wasn’t even catholic. Jack Zimmermann was attending catholic boarding school of his own free will, because this catholic boarding school happened to have the best hockey team in the eastern United States. And Jack Zimmermann wanted nothing more than he wanted to play hockey. So Jack Zimmermann and his father, Bad Bob, surprised his mother with the news that her Jewish son would be attending catholic school.

Bob and Alicia were going through a separation right now.

Eric followed the crowd of students through the hallways and went upstairs to his room; he didn’t have class until the afternoon, he might as well take a nap. He set down his bag and fell into Jack’s bed, pulling his stuffed rabbit out from between the bed and the wall. He was halfway asleep when Jack walked into the room.

“Hi hon,” Eric said, half asleep. Jack poked him hard in the ribs and then sat down, taking up most of the twin bed.

“I brought you some toast. You skipped breakfast. I missed you.”

“I’m right here. Did you remember to say the right words at the right time at mass this morning?” Eric teased. Jack was silent. “Sorry. That was rude. It’s shit anyway.”

“It’s fine - I just need to. Think. About hockey. You know tryouts are this week. Are you - have you thought about going for the team this year?” Jack was lying down now, curled around Eric.

He hadn’t thought about going for the team, because he was small, and he didn’t like the way hockey skates felt, and he liked watching Jack play. And mostly he was terrified of getting hit. But. They weren’t in any classes together this year and they’d barely had any time together in the two weeks since school had started - how could he say no?

“Yeah! I think... I think I might.”

“You still sound nervous - you don’t have to - just for me, you don’t have to.”

“I know. I want to - I do; I miss being on the ice, and you said it’s a no-checking team, right?” He could feel Jack’s nod on the back of his neck. “Ok, so I’ll show up and skate around the rink and impress them with how fast I am and then I’ll be on the team, and we’ll see each other more.”

“Ok. But - like - around the guys. We can’t do anything around the guys.” Jack had started playing with Bitty’s hair now, which meant he was trying to stop his hands from shaking. With some effort, Bitty rolled over so he was nose to nose with Jack, grabbed his hands in both of his, and pulled them close to his chest.

“Jack. I’ve been going to catholic school since I was ten. I know I can’t be publicly gay.” He kissed Jack’s hands. He could still feel them shaking, so he squeezed tighter. “Have you taken your medicine this morning?”

“No. I will now.” He sat up so he could get his pills off the bedside table. “Hey - I. I really... appreciate you. And how you’re trying hockey for me. Thank you.” He was turned away but Eric could see his blush.

"Aw, honey. I like you too. Do you want to make out until lunch?” 

_/ ♱ \\_

Eric arrived ten minutes early to the hockey team tryouts. Most of the boys who were already on the team and guaranteed spots weren’t here yet, but all the newbies like him were there and putting borrowed pads on over under armor. Jack was also there, of course, and so was another guy who Eric had seen playing on Jack’s line. He was maybe in Eric’s french class? He thought his name was Kent.

Eric always made sure to ignore and be ignored in the locker room as much as possible so it wasn’t until he was tightening his laces on the bench when he started to really take in the people around him. Everyone was here by now, but most of the senior players who’d secured roster spots with their performance last season were sitting in the back, waiting for the coaches to tell them what to do. He could hear them talking - “Yo, Zach, did you finally nail Alison?” “Hah, bro, look at these pussies that are trying out this year!” - and gritted his teeth. He could blend in here. Probably.

Jack and probably-Kent were sitting by themselves a little closer to Eric. Jack had a C on his jersey - he was the captain, obviously - and Kent wore an A, which Eric knew stood for alternate. He’d picked up on most of Jack’s hockeyisms in the past year. The two of them were whispering with each other; knowing Jack, it was probably about new plays and what players to put where and what to do in their first game, which wasn’t for a month.

The coach arrived around fifteen minutes late and surveyed the group. “Hello everybody, welcome to St. Cecilia's hockey tryouts. I’m sure some of you might make the cut. We have a pretty solid team, we nearly won the cup last year, so I’m only looking for a couple more players. Any questions?” Silence. “Alright then, everyone skate suicides until I tell you to stop. If you don’t know what those are, you can go ahead and leave already.”

Warmups were grueling, but Eric had skated competitively until a few years ago, and he knew what to expect. He didn’t puke, unlike one of the other new prospects, who was immediately told to go home.

Eric was decent at the stickhandling and shooting exercises, so he didn’t get cut there, but it wasn’t until the speed competition at the end of the tryout that the coach looked anywhere near impressed with him. He was standing off to the side, with Jack and probably-Kent (his jersey said Parson), when he yelled, “Alright! This is the last one, and then you babies can go take a nap. Speed skating! First one to get around the rink gets this crisp dollar bill that’s been sitting in my back pocket all day.”

Parson looked cocky as the people who hadn’t been cut lined up. He was the next smallest guy there besides Eric, but probably still had a good four inches and twenty pounds on him. And Eric was willing to bet that he hadn’t ever figure skated.

The coach counted down, and when he said “GO!” Eric was off like a shot. He was quickly yards ahead of most of the other players, but Parson was nearly on him. Eric would have had no contest in figure skates, but the lack of a toe pick was slowing him down a little. He could hear his heartbeat, loud in his ears, as he kept his focus on the ice. Halfway - three quarters done - and in almost no real time at all Eric had slapped the coach’s hand and won the race. Parson crashed into him, so close behind him he didn’t really have time to stop. They both fell, heavy on the ice, and got showered with snow as the rest of the boys came up behind them.

“And the winner of the grand prize of one US dollar - what’s your name, son?” the coach asked from above them.

“Uh, Eric Bittle, sir,” he said, sitting up. From the gathered boys he could see the ghost of a smile on Jack’s face.

“Well. You’re small, but you’re fast. Good job today.” He handed Eric the dollar and raised his voice slightly to talk to the rest of the gathered players. “The team roster will be posted on the school website tonight at 9. Good job from everyone here. Thanks to Jack and Kent for leading you all today - they’ll be your captains this year, so everyone get to know them. You’re dismissed.”

As soon as the coach left, the boys started cheering and taunting like a normal group of high school jocks. Eric stayed quiet - if anyone asked why he wasn’t joining in on ranking the senior girls’ volleyball team by “fuckability verses craziness,” he could say he was tired from the speed skate.  
They dispersed into groups once they entered the locker room. Eric expected to be left alone - he wasn’t expecting Jack to come talk to him in front of everyone - so he was surprised to feel a tap on his shoulder. But when he spun around, it wasn’t Jack’s blue eyes that met him. It was Parson. He was still wearing a dumb cocky smile, so maybe that was just his normal face.

Eric didn’t know anything about Parson. He tended to avoid... everyone at school, except for some of the girls, who tended to be nicer. And Jack. But Jack didn’t really talk about his hockey friends and he always hung out with them separately from Eric. St. Cecilia’s wasn’t huge, but it held several hundred students of varying ages and class schedules, so it was easy to not see people who you didn’t want to see.

“Hey. Bittle, right?” Parson slapped Eric on the shoulder in a very bro-ey way. “I’m Kent. Kent Parson. You can call me Parse, though - we’ll have to get you a nickname. Hmm. Everyone in hockey has a nickname; I’m sure Zimms has told you - right, Zimms?” He looked over at Jack, who had become tangled in his shirt at the mention of his name. His abs were exposed and sweaty and Eric steadfastly did not look at them. He kept looking at - Parse, who was just walking over an yanking the shirt off of Eric’s boyfriend. Which was probably perfectly normal among straight teammates. Right?

“Haha. Yeah, um, Eric and I talk about hockey a lot.” Jack was uncomfortable, but it probably wasn’t immediately clear to anyone else, but Eric had been training himself for a year to watch for shaky hands and a pale face, and he could see it now. (Did he have extra meds in his bag? Was he going to have to wait-)

“Fabulous! So have you picked a nickname, or were you planning to leave it to the rest of us!” Parse now had Jack in a headlock.

“Uh. I was waiting until he officially made the team, you know, so it didn’t mess anything up. Or something.”

“Well! I’m sure he’ll make the team. He beat me at the speed skate! No one’s done that since we joined the team.” Parse had kind of a hard sort of shine to him, like he was waiting for someone to challenge what he said. His eyes twinkled and he released Jack, walking over to Eric. “I know! We’ll call you Bitty! It’s a pun - cause of your name, and how small you are. You’re Itty Bitty.” Eric forced a laugh. “Itty Bitty! Get it, guys? GUYS!”

Everyone in the locker room yelled their approval and words of encouragement, which felt nice even though Eric - Bitty????? - definitely didn’t feel like part of the team yet. He also didn’t feel like Parse was being mean on purpose, that was just how boys like him were, and why he tended to avoid them. But he wanted to be here. Or had at some point.

People slowly filtered out after that. Eric knew Jack usually waited until the rest of the team had left to go home, in case anyone needed him as captain, so he showered and got dressed as slowly as he could. Finally, it was just him, Jack, and one other guy left.

“Yo, Jack, brah, sick new trick tonight! I think we can really use that against Legacy. And Bitty! Wicked fast, my man! Nice to formally meet ya!”

Eric takes in the bro before him. He appears to be about six feet of muscle, wearing no shirt, and smelling faintly of weed. Also, he learns as he’s pulled into a surprisingly soft (yet firm) bearhug, he’s pleasantly warm. “I’m B. I used to go by Shitty on my rec league team but Coach says I’m not allowed to have a swear word as my official nickname because we’re a catholic school. I told him the pope can get around to my nickname after he gets around to the sexual abuse running rampant in his church and then Coach told the priest what I said and I got assigned 25 ‘Our Fathers.’ Which is a load of -”

“Hey, Shits. Do you want to maybe release Eric?” Shitty had been progressively squeezing harder as he ranted about the catholic church’s lack of moral backbone and Eric was grateful to be released. His spine had popped somewhere around “pope.”

Jack looked lots calmer with just B./Shitty/Shits around for company. Seeing him with the gathered hockey team was the most on edge Eric had seen him since this school year started. But Shitty actually seemed nice, and not in a fake way. Maybe in an over-enthusiastic way.

“Hey, sorry brah. I get a little excited about new people. Jack’s told me a lot about you; he’s kinda quiet but I can break him out of his shell every now and then. He says you used to figure skate?”

Eric was surprised. He hadn’t expected Jack to talk about him to people.

“Um - yeah! I was pretty good. But I had to quit. Because of, you know... stuff. So now I’m trying hockey! Just... miss the ice, y’know?”

Shitty nodded sagely. “Yeah, brah, that’s tough. Hey, listen - why don’t you come with the hockey team when we go out this weekend? It’s not a regular supervised trip, if you know what I mean. Do you have a fake? I can get you a-”

“- Eric doesn’t want to come,” Jack cut in. “He’s not into, like. The party scene.”

"I could be!” Eric was more than a little frustrated so many people were making decisions for him and talking over him tonight. “I can be. I am. I’ve just decided I’m a partier. I’ll get the details from Jack. It was really nice to talk to you, um, Shitty.” He grabbed the sleeve of Jack’s hoodie and pulled him out the door.

“Jesus, what was that?” Jack asked.

“What was that? What was you? You don’t just get to make decisions for me. You’re like a completely different person around them! How come the hockey team knows all about me and you never, ever tell me about them? Am I not like, good enough or something?” Eric whisper-yelled because while it was late and he didn’t think anyone would be around, he didn’t need people to see him yelling at Jack about their Relationship.

“I - I didn’t think you’d like them. They act like douchebags.”

“I got that, thanks. But you still talk to them about me?”

“You know, they ask me questions about you, and why we’re still roommates, because a couple of them suggested I should switch. Because of some of the rumors about you. But it seems mostly fine I don’t think anyone thinks I’m a fa-”

“Don’t finish that.”

“Fine. I don’t think anyone thinks I’m the way I am so I thought, if I just told them how you were good to talk to and understood hockey but since you weren’t on the team it was a nice, like, breather, I guess -” Eric laughed; as if Jack ever needed a “breather” from hockey. “- and eventually the nicer ones like Parse and Shitty started asking more about you and then I asked you to join the team and here we are.” Jack looked upset. His hands were shoved in the pocket of his hoodie but Eric knew they were shaking, because Eric knew him.

“Sweetpea. I’m not mad at you, I’m just a little upset you were trying to seclude me, I guess. And I actually do want to go out with you outside of school. If we ignore everyone else, it could be...” Eric looked around. They were in the hallway of their room, and it was empty, but. He dragged Jack inside their room and locked it. “Like a date. It could be like a date.”

Jack turned even whiter, if possible. Eric almost, almost took it back, but he was tired. Tired of faking who he was, tired of Jack hating everything about himself and their relationship, tired of not being able to tell anyone when Jack did something sweet, tired of not being able to hold his hand in public, tired of so many things, so he just left it on the table. If Jack didn’t want him to come out with the team because he was too scared, then that was his problem.


End file.
